


Ambient Music, White Noise

by ceralynn



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceralynn/pseuds/ceralynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg helps Pearl sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambient Music, White Noise

"Thank you for fixing my van!"

The words echo in Pearl's mind, and it's several seconds before she realizes that they aren't coming from within her own mind; that Greg is on the beach as well, talking to her, voicing genuine gratitude with a tongue not made of pizza.

"Oh, Greg." She favors him with a smile. Her flashback of discomfort isn't his fault, after all. Not entirely. "You're quite welcome. It was no trouble, really."

"Still," Greg smiles back. "I wanted to return the favor."

"Oh?"

"Amethyst told me you were having trouble sleeping."

" _Amethyst_." Her expression sours in an instant. "Well she's mistaken, and so are you. You know us gems do just fine without sleep."

"I know." He shrugs faintly. "But it's a good skill to have, right?"

"Skill?" Pearl repeats with a laugh. "What skill? Falling asleep? True, I've only had minimal experience with this 'sleep,' but I can assure you, I have concluded that I do not like it."

"Why not? Did you have a bad dream?"

Pearl's expression falters as she recalls how warm Rose's skin had felt beneath her own, the smell of the ocean breeze through her love's hair, Greg's distorted face where her Rose's should have been.

"Something like that."

"Well I can help you there!" The brightness of Greg's tone discomfits her but she tries not to let it show. "I've got music that can help with that."

"Music?"

"Yeah! Ambient stuff, white noise, lots of relaxing tunes that'll keep your dreams from going haywire. What do you say?"

\--

Pearl takes him up on the offer only to hope that he'll fail. Sure, his music has some ineffably powerful qualities to it, and Greg means well enough. But the one thing he can't—he _shouldn't_ be able to do is quiet the anxieties in Pearl's heart that spark dreams such as hers. Anxieties only Rose could ever quiet.

Pearl comes down to Greg's van after nightfall, her gem illuminating the small space as he flips through records. She lays down on a bed of blankets he's constructed for her as Greg lists off names of bands, albums, genres. It's like listening to a foreign language, but Pearl makes various interested noises until Greg finally makes a choice. He fiddles with the record player and instruments Pearl can't name form delicate, lilting harmonies, filling the van softly. Greg joins on her on van's floor, curled up in blankets of his own, and Pearl lets her eyes slip shut, the glow of her gem slowly dimming.

\--

"Pearl?"

She wakes up the next morning to Greg kneeling over her, a nervous sincerity coloring his expression. Faint morning sun shines through the van's windows.

"How do you feel?"

It feels a bit like reforming, like a very small version of that, but she doubts that would mean much to a human.

"I feel.. good. Better than I did before I fell asleep, I think."

Greg grins. "Nice dreams this time, huh?"

"Actually," Pearl frowns. "I don't remember dreaming of anything."

"Really? But it projected from your gem just like Amethyst said it would." He shakes his head. "Don't worry, that happens sometimes. If you sleep hard enough, the dreams aren't too important."

"Wait, wait, what projected? My dream?"

"Well, yeah."

"What was it?"

Greg looks away, shrugs, as if he regrets bringing it up to begin with. "Nothing much," he answers. "Not what I saw of it, anyway. It was just.. us."

"Us?"

"Us, on the beach. I thought we were watching a sunset, but the sun never went down. At least, I never saw it go down."

For a moment, both of them remain quiet, and Pearl sits up  finally, reaching over to the sleeve of the record Greg chose for her, examining it.

"You know," she says. "I think I really like this music."

"Really? You can have it if you want."

"No." Pearl looks up to Greg from the record sleeve, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. "I mean, I think it would make more sense if I kept it here. Then I can come find you whenever I need it. Right?"

Greg smiles broadly, slowly. "Yeah, Pearl. Of course you can."


End file.
